Five Times House Babysat, and One Time He Didn't
by GoddessofSnark
Summary: But Mommy, I want to stay with Mr. Greg!" Cuddy rolled her eyes at the comment, of course her child would pick House over her. Of course she would. A bit of Huddy fluff. Heavy on the fluff, moderate on the Huddy.


A/N chaptered fics in progress? What are those? Oh, right, too much work for the holiday season...might write more of them, but likely not until I'm on a plane out of the artic. (Well, ok, so I've got all of Canada, and North Dakota between myself and the artic, but it can't be any colder up there than it is here.) Just a bit of Huddy fluff, because I'm in a fluffy mood. Just picked a name at random, seeing as they haven't given the famous Cuddy baby a name yet, and I can't see Cuddy naming her child anything but a "normal" name.

* * *

"House!" It was a sharp call, much like one would use when calling over a puppy who had just wet the carpet. He merely looked up from his desk, with a sly smirk on his face, peering over the tops of his feet to stare at her.

"Yes?" He questioned, wondering what Cuddy had in for him now. He already knew what he had done, now was just awaiting the punishment.

"What is _this?_" Cuddy thrust a rather large box back at him, and he shrugged.

"It appears to be a 'sing with me Elmo' doll."

"Why was it on my desk?"

"Because the last time I checked, it's been a year since that wailing, shitting, eating machine you call a child came into the world." He had purposely trolled the entire peds unit, looking for what all the parents there agreed on being the most annoying toy of the 2009 holiday season, and they had all agreed on the lump of red fur that seemed to never want to shut up that Cuddy was now holding in her hands.

"Do you know how utterly annoying this thing is?" As if on cue, the toy started singing in a high pitched, squeaky voice.

"No?" He tried, unable to hide the smirk appearing across his face.

"Fine then, if you care enough to give Julie a gift, I'm sure you care enough to watch her long enough for me to get my paperwork done."

He hadn't planned on his gift backfiring on him, and leaving him in his office listening to a one-year-old gleefully clapping along to "One fine face" for the next six hours. He mentally reminded himself to never buy a gift that Cuddy could stick back in his office along with the kid.  


* * *

"House!" It was a sharp call, much like one would use when calling over a puppy who had just wet the carpet. He merely looked up from the couch, not even bothering to get up when she had opened the door again.

"Yes?" He questioned, as though he had no clue what was going on. He knew full well what he had done, right now he was just waiting for the punishment.

"I asked you to _watch_ my child, not _corrupt_ my child."

"I did what you asked, I watched her, saved her from surely mortal injury fighting off imaginary dragons, fed her, and put her to sleep."

"She was up until two watching Blackadder reruns with you!"

"Well, you can't deny that British comedy is far better than anything the Americans have ever put out-"Cuddy merely sighed, before turning around and walking back out of the apartment, ignoring the cries of 'but I want to stay with Mr. Greg' that were emanating from the carseat in her car. Of course her three year old would pick House over her. Of course.  


* * *

"House!" It was a sharp call, much like one would use when calling over a puppy who had just wet the carpet. He merely turned around from where he was walking, flashing a sickeningly sweet smile at the four year old grasped in his boss's hand.

"Yes?" He asked, this time actually wondering what it was that he had done to incur Cuddy's wrath this time.

"I got a call from Julie's teacher this morning,"

"Oh really, what about?" He knew he had done _something_, Cuddy didn't just act irate for no reason. Especially not when it involved her child.

"Julie, what did you do this morning?" The four year old looked up innocently, not comprehending why her mother was so mad at Mr. Greg. After all, to her, Mr. Greg was the awesome man that let her eat ice cream for dinner when he watched her, and let her stay up late, and bought her the best gifts for Channuka and her birthday.

"I wanted to bring Mr. Greg in for show-and-tell." House smiled down about her, and looked up at the mother, one eyebrow quirked.

"And what's wrong with that?" he questioned, visibly pleased that he ranked important enough in the life of a four year old to warrant becoming her show-and-tell object.

"Julie, tell Mr. Greg what you told Ms. Hanson this morning."

"Well, I told her all about how you let me stay up late, and how you let me eat ice cream and skittles for dinner, and that you said mommy had a great pair of cans-" House smiled sheepishly as he looked back at Cuddy.

"Well you do."

"That's it, you're never watching my child again."

"But mommy-" The girl protested, tagging along in the wake of the click-clack of heels down the hallway, leaving House smirking in the background, until the girl opened her mouth again. "I wish Mr. Greg was my daddy, that way I could have ice cream for dinner all the time, and it wouldn't matter what Ms. Hanson said." He kept his eyes on the ground, not trusting his own composure, and not wanting to see how Cuddy responded.  


* * *

"House!" It was a sharp call, much like one would use when calling over a puppy who had just wet the carpet. He merely rolled his eyes, seeing as she couldn't see him over the phone.

"Yes?" he questioned, knowing full well what had happened, and was awaiting his punishment.

"_What_ is sitting in my living room?"

"Well, it wasn't supposed to get there until tomorrow, but if I'm guessing right, it's a drumset."

"_Why_ is it in my living room?"

"Because it's seven years since that little runty thing that follows you around came into the world. And it comes with three months of lessons over at Farringtons, which is right down the road from you, so you have no excuse not to take her."

"You bought her a drumset?"

"She didn't seem like the guitarist type." Cuddy merely sighed, knowing full well that he had bought the girl the most annoying instrument he could possibly find. "Remember to let her practice, there's no way she'll ever get good if she doesn't practice."

"You-" there was a pause, before he heard another sigh. "Thanks. She loves it." He could only smile in response.  


* * *

"House!" It wasn't a sharp call, but rather a high pitched, and squeaky one. Well, not as high pitched and squeaky as it _had_ been, once upon a time. As the girl grew, the vocal chords grew as well, forming into a light alto, not unlike her mother's.

"Yes?" He asked, wondering what a ten year old could possibly want with him, unless it was candy, or a reprieve from her mother, who no doubt assumed that "take your child to work" day meant "make your child do your filing for you."

"Mom said I should come bother you, since you're always bothering her." He smirked slightly, and gestured at the recliner in the corner. "Besides, you've got toys in here, which is better than her office. Can I play your gameboy?" He handed over the item, and quirked an eyebrow.

"Don't you have one of your own?" He knew she did, it had been part of a birthday present for her the year before. Well, birthday and Channuka, since they'd lined up that year. He always thought that kids born around the holidays had it the worst-especially little Jewish ones whose birthdays lined up with the first day-traditionally the worst gift.

"Technically I'm grounded from it for getting a bad grade on a spelling test because I didn't study." He rolled his eyes. "Let me know if you see my mom, so I can hide it." He had trained the girl well, he supposed. Already learning how to be as manipulative as he was.

"I won't tell." He winked, and went back to pretending to look over a possible new set of candidates for internships. Had he already gone through his third team? And was he really pushing into his sixth decade? He certainly didn't feel any older, but that may have been because he acted as though he was still younger than the girl sitting across from him.

"Why do you bother my mom so much?" She asked, and he gave a shrug, even though she hadn't looked up from playing Pokemon whatever-color-it-was, he couldn't even remember, nor had he payed attention. If he had to guess, he'd say something like Topaz, or Jasper or something, but he'd long since stopped caring. "Don't boys bother girls when they like them?" He gave a small snort of laughter at the naivety of the girl.

"I don't pull her pigtails, I bug her because it's fun. She reacts. It's entertaining."

"She likes you, you know." The girl had perfect timing, he had to admit. She had to spring that as soon as he had been swallowing a rather large gulp of coffee. It was all he could do to stop himself from coughing it back up all over his desk.

"And she told you this?"

"No, but why would she pick _you_ over Wilson, who actually does what my mom tells him to? Like make sure I'm asleep and not up watching television by eleven, and who makes me eat real food for dinner."

"That's just cause he can cook, and Cuddy would be even more sickened by the idea of you eating bad takeout." She laughed, and wrinkled her nose at the idea of the dreck that he called good food. "And Wilson's got a new wife to care about now, anyway." His friend was on the fourth Mrs. Wilson, and House predicted the man would likely make it to number five or six before he gave up for good.

"Besides, she looks at you the way the other girls look at Jimmy McCawley."

"Who's Jimmy McCawley?" He questioned, knowing the name sounded familiar, but was unsure why.

"That guy on the Disney channel, that sings and stuff. I don't think he's very good looking, but everyone else does. They're all so busy planning their fantasy weddings with him." _Some things never change_. He thought to himself. Since the dawn of the concept of marriage, women had been planning their perfect ones to the perfect husbands. But trust Cuddy's kid to refuse to follow the crowd.

"And you don't plan about your perfect wedding?"

"Not to Jimmy McCawley at any rate." There was a pause, where the only sound in the room was the fierce clicking of buttons as the girl tapped repeatedly on the gameboy, before she spoke again. "House?" It was a quiet, meek tone, one that he'd never heard out of the girl before.

"Hmm?" He questioned, tossing aside another resumée from someone who would obviously not do well on his team.

"Since I don't have a dad-when I get married, would you walk me down the aisle? You're the closest thing I've ever had. You and Wilson. And Chase, but he'd steal all the bridesmades. And I don't think the person walking down the aisle with the bride is supposed to get more attention than the girl." The girl was still looking down at the gameboy, and he kept his eyes on the file, not knowing _how_ to respond to such a question from a ten year old.

He was saved, thankfully, by his office door opening, and Cuddy stalking in. "What is that?" She pointed at the gameboy in her daughter's hands. The girl looked up at House, with a frown.

"You were supposed to be keeping watch!"

"You knew she was grounded and you still gave her your gameboy?" He couldn't help the smirk, he thought it was rather amusing that she used the same tone of voice to scold him that she did her child.

"It was better than having her do my work for me, wasn't it?" Cuddy merely sighed, snatching the gameboy from the girl's hands, and walking off with it, leaving both of them protesting the lack of toy.  


* * *

"House!" It was a sharp call, much like one would use when calling over a puppy who had just wet the carpet. He looked up from where he was hiding behind the door, a guilty look on his face. He tried to protest when he ws dragged away from his spot by the collar, rather much like a dog by the scruff of it's neck, and back into the bedroom. "Sit. Stay."

"Rurf?"He gave his best impression of a questioning dog bark, and Cuddy merely rolled her eyes.

"Just because you're sleeping with me does not give you the right to intimidate any of Julie's dates."

"I wasn't going to intimidate-merely question." She rolled her eyes as the doorbell rang, and when he moved to get up, she forced him back onto the bed. "_I _will get that." He frowned, but only sat for a moment before hobbling along behind her, to see a rather...plain looking young boy, no more than fifteen-Julie's age-standing there nervously.

Julie blew past them both before either of them had a chance to talk to the boy, with barely more than a backwards glance and a thumbs up at the acknowledgement of her mother reminding her to be home by eleven. "I could have questioned him perfectly well."

"I'm more intimidating." She rolled her eyes as she sat on the couch, and he moved to join her.

"Yes, because an old man with a cane is _so_ intimidating." He frowned slightly, lower lip sticking out in a pout.

"And an old woman is?"

"An old woman who has a teenage daughter. Anyone that can put up with _that_ has to be intimidating."

"And I get no credit for that? I seem to recall her begging to spend more time with me when she was growing up."

"Because every time you watched her you spoiled her rotten." The drumset still sat in the basement, although it had long since been upgraded from a child-size to a full size, along with House's collection of guitars. He still didn't know how Wilson had managed to get the piano in the basement either, but somehow his friend had. "Who wouldn't want to spend more time with someone whose diet consisted entirely of junk food and who had absolutely no rules."

"I had _one_ rule. Don't tell you what went on. What you didn't know couldn't hurt me." She rolled her eyes and gave him a playful smack across the chest, before relaxing against him.

"House?" She questioned, and he looked down at her.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you." It was a quiet acknowledgement that described more than could be put into words. "For being there. For being some sort of a father figure, even if you were the completely wrong sort of role model." He smirked slightly.

"I think I was the completely right sort of role model. You know she wouldn't stop bugging me until I dragged you out to dinner? She'd call me every night and point out the fact that you were there with her, and not on a date with me." Cuddy's eyebrows raised at that revelation.

"She did?"

"Yep. Although it took her getting Wilson to join in on the pestering for it to happen."

"Coward."

"What? You're intimidating." She merely grinned, and shook her head, giving a contented sigh as her head rested against his chest.

"You know, she's going to be out until eleven-" His smirk turned into a sly grin as he looked down into the pale grey eyes that were looking back up at him, and the sultry smile on her face.

"I like the way you think." He murmured, dropping a kiss onto her lips.


End file.
